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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30013350">Profile Problem</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_trash_15/pseuds/i_am_trash_15'>i_am_trash_15</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>random schlangst aus [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Lunch Club, Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dog Hybrid Traves, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, He Gets a Hug, Hybrid Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Jschlatt Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Slime Hybrid Charlie Dalgleish, schlangst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:34:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,666</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30013350</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_trash_15/pseuds/i_am_trash_15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything is different now, and nothing is the same. It's enough to drive a man insane.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>no - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>random schlangst aus [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2134968</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>92</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Profile Problem</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            [Restricted Work] by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/raydiosighlent/pseuds/raydiosighlent">raydiosighlent</a>. Log in to view.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>is writing schlangst my life now? I guess.</p><p>saw a fic similar to this, took my own take on it. to the original writer, who inspired me, raydiosighlent, Thanks for the inspiration.<br/>im sorry if this is an unwelcome interpretation, but i had an idea to make it even angstier, and i went with it.<br/>thank you for existing.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Something happened to them. What exactly? They didn’t know. All they did know was that things were different now, had been for nearly two and a half months, and none of them showed any signs of turning back. They had all been turned into their online personas, or some version of it. But ever since they were all turned into their personas, things have been… different. Ted stayed pretty much the same, as did Noah, but some of the Lunch Club members underwent a few changes. Cooper grew gills. Charlie turned into a slime version of himself, but he could turn back into his previous self for certain amounts of time. Travis grew dog ears, but he could hide them in his hoodie. Carson simply fucking disappeared. Schlatt became the ram in his profile picture, height included. He was now a short, white-furred ram, and his friends thought that that was the best part of all of this. </p><p> </p><p>Schlatt is now so short he has to jump to just barely turn on and off the lights. He is literally the height of a child. The others tease him incessantly about it, and at times, he is a walking ball of irritation. </p><p> </p><p>Another day goes by. They chuckle and laugh at him when they put objects just out of his reach, howl with laughter as he tries to reach the cereal, reaching on the very tips of his hooves in the open cabinet. They laugh and don’t notice as his hands begin to shake with anger, his breathing is constricted with how much his chest hurts from holding back a scream. He’s been holding it back for ages now, it’s getting harder to contain. Noah has stopped laughing, now, he’s the only one who has even looked at him to see how angry he is. Letting go of a shaky breath, he lets himself laugh, too. It’s a choked, pained thing that quickly turns manic. He stops very suddenly, slamming the cabinet door shut, shocking his friends into silence and leaving the room without having eaten anything. He locks himself in his room and refuses to open the door, punching the wall hard enough to make a hole and leave his knuckles bloody.</p><p> </p><p>He lays down on his floor, anywhere else feels too constricting, makes him notice how little space he takes up. He’s supposed to record today. Without the facecam, thank god, but it’ll take out whatever energy he has left.</p><p> </p><p>It was a short recording session, but his energy was sapped. He lets his mind drift away again, dreading seeing his friends for dinner again. How bad was that? He dreaded seeing his friends now. He had been so fed up with the jokes and the comments and all the little things they did just to poke fun at him, well it wasn’t fun for him! Did they ever consider that?</p><p> </p><p>Did they ever consider that he really did not want to be like this? That every time he couldn’t do something, he had to fight the urge to scream, or cry, or slam his head into a fucking wall? No. Because it was funny. They didn’t give a shit about what he thought.</p><p> </p><p>It was nighttime now, and when Schlatt looked at his clock, it was long past the time that his friends would have been in bed. Good. He needed a drink.</p><p> </p><p>He got up and opened the door, peeking out just in case. He went down to the kitchen, scowling when he realized that both the glasses and the alcohol were out of reach. Looking around, he pulled a chair over and stood on it to stand on top of the counters. Instead of getting down, he simply sat down on the counter and poured himself a glass, drinking it down quickly. He poured himself another, sipping at this one slower. He let his head rest against the wall, before deciding it was uncomfortable, so he migrated to the table. It came up to his chest. He took another sip of his drink, then ran his hand through his fur, between his horns.</p><p> </p><p>His horns were something he couldn’t get used to. His head always felt so heavy, and sometimes he would hit his horns on something and it would give him a headache, or one of the guys would hang something on one of them, and it would throw off his balance, or something like that. It just seemed like this whole thing was just designed to piss him off. The other guys got off easy, it seemed like. They didn’t have to endure everyone else damn near always picking on them. Why did he?</p><p> </p><p>He clawed a hand through his fur again, his scalp stinging where his claws touched. His other hand joined in, both hands gripping at his hair until it hurt. He took a deep, shaky breath, only realizing he’d stopped when his chest started hurting. He let go, letting his arms drop onto the table with a dull thud. He didn’t care. He took another drink, staring at the amber colored liquid sadly.</p><p> </p><p>He was fine. Perfectly fine. It was okay if his friends made fun of him, made his life hard. It definitely didn’t make him dread seeing his friends, make him want to scream and yell and cry until he couldn’t feel anything. It wasn’t a problem.</p><p> </p><p>He was not fine. He was lying to himself. This was a problem, he lived with them for crying out loud. But he couldn’t do this anymore. The fucking jokes and the teasing. He actively avoided going out to eat now, as every time they did, the waitress would assume he was a child and treat him accordingly. Every time they did, his friends would howl with laughter as soon as she was gone, and he would have to chuckle along despite feeling absolutely shitty, shame burning on his face and his mood ruined.</p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t think of the last time where he interacted with his friends and his mood <em> hadn’t </em> been utterly destroyed. How horrible was that? They were his friends. He had to talk to them. </p><p> </p><p>He sighed and took a long drink, then carded his hands through his hair, gentler this time, letting his head rest on the table.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t feel well. His stomach hurt and grumbled, but how the <em> fuck </em> was he supposed to reach the food without their help or a stepstool, which they hid from him, but like hell he was going to ask for help. His head hurt and felt heavy, and there was a pressure in his chest. His face was burning, he could tell he was only just barely not crying. A shiver wracked his body, and he had to control his breathing, it was getting uneven.</p><p> </p><p>There was a hand on his shoulder, and he whipped around.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you okay?” Noah asked, looking at him, concerned.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m fine,” he spat. “... headache.”</p><p> </p><p>“Dude. Seriously. You can talk to us.”</p><p> </p><p>“Can I? Or are you just gonna think it’s some little fucking kid whining that he dropped his fucking ice cream?” Noah flinched back. Schlatt couldn’t find it in him to be sorry. “Go ahead, say some funny little fucking quip, Noah. I know you want to.”</p><p> </p><p>“Schlatt, I- what’s going on? Are you okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m fucking fantastic, Noah. Thank you so much for asking me. It feels fucking wonderful having a normal conversation like a fucking adult. How was your day, did you enjoy the fucking weather today?” Schlatt had snapped. He had officially gone off the deep end. He hadn’t realized how angry he was until now, and he hated to admit how nice it felt to go off on his friend like this, even though he didn’t deserve it. It was mostly Charlie and Ted, but everyone joined in, and no one made any effort to stop them.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s this about, Schlatt?” Noah asked. He knew something was up. Schlatt never just snaps like this.</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing important. Not to <em> you </em>, anyway.” He laughed bitterly, taking another sip of his drink to act like he didn’t care.</p><p> </p><p>“Well then pretend like it is.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh please. All I fucking <em> do </em> is pretend, don’t gimme that bullshit.”</p><p> </p><p>“Dude, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want your fucking help, Noah!” he shouted. He didn’t care if he woke everyone up. “I just want to be fucking <em> normal </em> again, I don’t want to have to need your fucking help just to get a <em> goddamn </em> cereal box, and I certainly don’t want to <em> fucking </em> hear it when I can’t fucking reach it.” He was seething. Noah’s eyes widened. He knew what he was talking about, at least. “I don’t want your help, I just want things to be normal again.” Schlatt forced himself to calm down. He tossed back the rest of his drink, grabbing the glass and walking over to put it on the counter. He started walking out of the room, but Noah grabbed his arm and pulled him back. Schlatt whipped around, all hope of calming down gone. “ <em> What. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Schlatt-”</p><p> </p><p>“You gonna fucking lecture me? I shouldn’t be so mad, ‘it's just a joke, Schlatt’, some shit like that? Gonna lecture me about it like a fucking <em> child </em>?”</p><p> </p><p>“How long has this been bothering you?” Noah asked, his eyebrows knit with concern.</p><p> </p><p>“It doesn’t fucking matter, Noah. That’s the beauty of it. Nothing I say to you guys will stop you all from making jokes. So it doesn’t matter. I’m going back to my room. Let me go,” he snarled. Reluctantly, Noah released his arm, and Schlatt stalked off, slamming his door. The others came down a few moments later, awoken by the shouting and the slamming.</p><p> </p><p>“What was all that?” Cooper asked blearily.</p><p> </p><p>“Schlatt. He isn’t happy,” Noah murmured.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll go talk to him,” Ted volunteered. Noah was just about to say that he didn’t think that was such a good idea, when Ted walked up to Schlatt’s room and knocked on the locked door.</p><p> </p><p>“Ted… don’t…” Noah tried.</p><p> </p><p>“Schlatt! Come out, we gotta talk.” there was a muffled ‘fuck off’ from Schlatt. “Quit baby raging, man-” Ted was cut off by an enraged bleat from the other side of the door, followed by a series of loud bangs.</p><p> </p><p>“Would you shut the FUCK up and just leave me the fuck alone!” Something hit the door, and then there was silence.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, so he’s, like, <em> angry </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“What clued you in,” Noah deadpanned. “Schlatt, can I come in?” he called through the door.</p><p> </p><p>“I dunno, can you?” Schlatt said in a sarcastically derpy tone. He was done talking, and was in the process of shutting everyone there out.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m coming in.” Noah tried the handle, but it was locked.</p><p> </p><p>“Try it, bitch. I have the fucking gun, I am going to shoot you if that fucking door opens. Leave me the fuck alone,” Schlatt threatened. Noah rolled his eyes. He wouldn’t shoot his friends. It was probably a bluff. He jiggled the handle again, and there was the tell-tale sound of a gun cocking from the other side of the door.</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s let him calm down,” he muttered to the others. They all nodded, and went back into the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s gotten into him?” Cooper asked. </p><p> </p><p>“I think we should cut back some of the comments about his height,” Noah stated. There were a few raised eyebrows.</p><p> </p><p>“Why? It’s funny,” Ted said.</p><p> </p><p>“I think it’s better if he explains, but he’s kind of shut down right now. I think he thinks that we’re treating him like a child.”</p><p> </p><p>“Pfft, not our fault that he looks like one right now, am I right?” Ted elbowed Charlie, and they chuckled.</p><p> </p><p>“Guys, I’m serious.”</p><p> </p><p>“I agree,” Travis spoke up from the back. “He’s angry enough, we shouldn’t press it further.”</p><p> </p><p>Later that day, Noah passed by Schlatt’s room, expecting silence, and was surprised to hear him talking to someone.</p><p> </p><p>“I dunno, Wilbur. I just… I wanna talk to them, I do. But they make it <em> so hard </em>. They treat me like a fucking child, Wilbur! I can’t stand it anymore! It has been, like, two months since the first time I asked them to stop, and they haven’t! I still ask them to stop. It’s all so fucking demeaning, I can’t take it anymore,” Schlatt sounded sad.</p><p> </p><p>“Well turn on your video, Schlatt. I’m sure it isn’t that bad,” Wilbur said, his tone supportive.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine, but I swear to god, if you even fucking laugh, I am hanging up.” There were a few clicks, then, “ta da.”</p><p> </p><p>Wilbur let out a single chuckle, a huff of a laugh. “You look adorable.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mmnokay. It’s been great, Wilbur. Have a nice day.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wait-“ the sound of a call ending sounded, and Schlatt slammed his head down on his desk, or at least it sounded like it.</p><p> </p><p>Noah’s phone pinged, and he quickly disappeared from outside Schlatt’s room, ducking into his own to answer the message.</p><p> </p><p>Wilbur Soot- <em> I need to talk to you. </em></p><p> </p><p>Noah pressed the call button. Wilbur picked up.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Wilbur.”</p><p> </p><p>“Noah. You consider yourself an observant person, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, why?”</p><p> </p><p>“Have you noticed anything off about Schlatt?”</p><p> </p><p>“You know, I have, but only in the past few days. It took me an embarrassingly long time to see it, and I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t apologize to me, man. Listen, I want you to keep an eye on Schlatt. I’m really worried about him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course. What specifically should I look for?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, he won’t outright tell you, he doesn’t feel like he can talk to you guys right now. Which is terrible, and you should all feel ashamed of yourselves. At any rate, I don’t think he’s taking very good care of himself. Has he been eating properly?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think so. He didn’t come out at all yesterday, after he had a bit of an… outburst… at breakfast, and then locked himself in his room.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you know why he had an ‘outburst’?”</p><p> </p><p>“I have an idea, but please, let’s compare notes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Schlatt wants you guys to stop with all the little comments about his current situation. It’s really been bogging him down, and at this point I’m seriously concerned he might be hurting himself,” Wilbur said. Noah’s heart sank. He should have noticed sooner. “He feels like he can’t talk to you guys, and as his friends, I think you all should be concerned, especially if you want to remain his friends. Have you noticed that his behavior is really strange? He’s not okay, Noah, and I’m worried. So I’m asking you to get everyone to stop, get him to talk it out. Please.”</p><p> </p><p>“I- yeah. Of course.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you. You didn’t hear this from me, by the way.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, yeah, no. Course not.” they shared a half-hearted chuckle, and hung up. Noah went and immediately rounded up the house residents, not including Schlatt.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s this about, Noah?” Ted asked.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s about Schlatt. I think we need to stop with all the height jokes,” Noah said.</p><p> </p><p>“What? Oh, come on, just because he doesn’t like it-”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not about just ‘not liking it’, Ted! This is serious! Have you noticed that he hardly talks to us anymore? Did you notice how angry he was the last time we all saw him? Yesterday morning? Have you even noticed how he is literally hiding from us because we won’t stop? I have!”</p><p> </p><p>“I suppose, now that you point it out, he did look a bit upset…” Ted said quietly. The others looked down, ashamed.</p><p> </p><p>“I can try and coax him out,” Travis offered.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Best plan we’ve got, go ahead,” Noah nodded. Travis’ new ears flicked, and he turned to walk towards Schlatt’s room.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Schlatt wanted to scream. Damn near constantly now. He wanted to scream, to cry, bang his head on the wall, do <em> something </em> to alleviate the constant pressure in his head.</p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t talk to his friends. He’s tried. He has tried so much, to even get a word out, but as soon as he tried, they would just tell him to stop acting like a child, then laugh.</p><p> </p><p>If anyone that <em> wasn’t </em> his friends came up and commented on how fucking pitifully sad he looked, he would probably respond, ‘yeah, I am pretty fucking sad’. He wanted to talk to his friends, he did. He wanted to so bad. They wouldn’t let him get a word in, and as soon as they said one thing about it, about his state, then he would mentally just lose it. He’d started wanting to just hit them in the shins with his new hooves, but they were his friends, he couldn’t do that. But he still had the intense urge to just… just hit something, so instead of taking everything out on his friends, who would either get mad or enrage him further by telling him to stop baby-raging (emphasizing the baby bit), he would punch the wall, slam his head into it, something to take the urge to punch them away.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t have much of an appetite after his recent outburst. Throwing his pity party just took everything out of him.</p><p> </p><p>There was a knock on the door. He didn’t answer.</p><p> </p><p>“Schlatt. I know you’re in there,” Travis called. <em> Fuck </em> . They sent <em> Travis </em> ? Anyone else he wouldn’t have a problem with telling to kindly fuck off, but <em> Travis </em>? He couldn’t say no to Travis.</p><p> </p><p>Travis knocked again, a little louder and more insistent.</p><p> </p><p>“Schlatt, you need to eat something. Come out.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not hungry,” he called back, trying to make Travis go away on his own. Even as he said that, his stomach growled lowly.</p><p> </p><p>“Well eat something anyway. Come on, please?” There it was. The plea. Schlatt could just see the puppy dog eyes now. Sighing, he stood up and opened the door. Looking up at his friend, he put on a scowl. He just knew the others were downstairs, waiting to make fun of him.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not hungry, but if it’ll get you offa my tail,” he grumbled. He really didn’t wanna see his friends. Nausea started bubbling in his stomach.</p><p> </p><p>They got downstairs, and Schlatt spared his friends barely half a look before just continuing on to the cabinet, expecting his cereal to be where he couldn’t reach, but was instead right where it should be. He pulled it out and set it down on the counter, hyper aware of his friends staring at him. Chills ran up his spine. They were probably trying to think of new jokes.</p><p> </p><p>Schlatt pulled the milk out of the fridge with minor difficulty, and got out a spoon, then realized what his friends were waiting for.</p><p> </p><p>He usually had to ask for help to get a bowl, since they were in a cabinet rather far above his head. His nails dug into his palms and his eye twitched. He wasn’t gonna ask, he wasn’t gonna ask- Wait. They had paper bowls in reach. His rising anger faded, and he simply grabbed one of those, a little smile on his face now that he’d outsmarted them. Ha ha. He’s a smart boi, try making jokes <em> now </em>. He poured his cereal, grabbed his spoon and took a bite, staring pointedly at it and avoiding eye contact.</p><p> </p><p>“Schlatt,” Noah said. The ram clenched his teeth, inhaling. He took another bite of his cereal. “Schlatt. Look at us, please.” Schlatt looks up at them and smiles, blinking at them.</p><p> </p><p>“What can I help you with?” he asked in an innocent tone.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s up with you lately?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</p><p> </p><p>“Schlatt. Come on. You’ve been acting weird lately.”</p><p> </p><p>“Have I?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, dude. We’re concerned.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, are you? You know, for some strange reason, I don’t quite believe that.”</p><p> </p><p>“We are. I don’t think you’ve been taking very good care of yourself,” Noah stepped closer.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think you came to that conclusion by yourself,” Schlatt deadpanned, taking another bite of his cereal.</p><p> </p><p>“Perhaps, and I am honestly sorry that we didn’t notice sooner.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I fucking bet you are,” he said, chewing and rolling his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Schlatt, we’re trying to apologise-”</p><p> </p><p>“No. You’re trying to explain what you think is wrong with me and they’re standing around in fucking silence. But go ahead. Tell me why I’m a problem.”</p><p> </p><p>“I never said you were a problem, Schlatt.”</p><p> </p><p>“You implied it. You started listing off things about me that you think need to be fixed. You think I need to be fixed. Therefore, I am a problem.”</p><p> </p><p>“Schlatt, would you please let me talk?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure. Should I do bubbles and tails? Like in fucking kindergarten? Already got one of them down!” Noah’s lip twitched, barely. “Am I frustrating you, Noah? With all the incessant comments, Noah? Please, go ahead.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not trying to say that you’re a problem. Not at all. I am trying to say that we, collectively, as a group, are trying to apologize to you for being jerks,” Noah said. Schlatt raised his hand, and Ted looked like he was biting back a smirk. “Yes, Schlatt?”</p><p> </p><p>“Cooper looks like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. Why don’t you explain to the class what you think is wrong.” Noah looked at his friends and sighed. This was clearly not going the way he thought it would.</p><p> </p><p>“We have been absolute jerks to you, Schlatt, for several months, and I feel like we should have noticed how much it has been bothering you.”</p><p> </p><p>“How do you think it has been bothering me.”</p><p> </p><p>“God, Schlatt, I’m just trying to apologize. Why are you grilling me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because I wanna know that you know what the fuck you’re apologizing for, Noah!” He shouted. “Your words don’t mean shit to me unless I know you fucking mean them!” There was silence in the room. The others finally realized what Noah was trying to do. Schlatt was on edge. Had been for a while. They <em> should </em> feel bad for taking this long to stop and think. “Not to mention, if you feel sorry enough to make everyone else try and feel sorry, too, then I want them to actually be sorry before you make them.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. I am sorry that we teased you to the point of anger. I, personally. I’m sorry. I will step away from a collective apology, and let them apologize if they wish.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” Schlatt said, rather noncommittally. Travis stepped forward as well.</p><p> </p><p>“Please correct me if I’m wrong, Schlatt, but we didn’t just anger you, did we?” He asked, ears back. Schlatt looked at Travis with the same bored look that he’d given Noah, before sighing and looking down at his now mushy cereal.</p><p> </p><p>“No. It would be easy if it were just that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then what?”</p><p> </p><p>“Listen. You guys are all my friends, right?” Everyone nodded. “Past two months, it has been harder and harder for me to see that. You don’t seem to understand that I might not appreciate all the jokes about my height, and the sheer fucking fact that you all treat me like a goddamn <em> child </em> has just blown the roof off of things. Yeah, I’m angry. But I’m also pretty fucking sick and tired of you guys not taking me seriously anymore. Do you know how <em> fucking </em> hard it is to pretend like everything is okay and that you don’t just wanna, wanna fucking… I don’t fucking know.” He pinched the bridge of his nose.</p><p> </p><p>“I tried talking to you guys about this ages ago, and you told me to quit acting like a child. So I stopped telling you things. You guys have made it so <em> fucking </em> hard to have a conversation with you, because as soon as I even walk into a room, there’s some comment that you have that day, or you put the fucking cereal out of reach again, or you hid my fucking step-stool and I can’t find my <em> real </em> stool. I cannot stand it anymore. I have asked everyone to stop several times, and you did not listen. So if I can’t talk to you, then it’s your own damn faults.” He took a breath, calming himself down.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you really think you can’t talk to us?” Ted asked, bewildered.</p><p> </p><p>“No, no, I know I can talk to you. I don’t think I <em> want </em> to.” </p><p> </p><p>“I-”</p><p>
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</p><p> Everyone was speechless. They knew from his previous outburst that they had pissed him off, but they didn’t realize it was to <em> this </em> level. To the level that he didn’t even really want to talk to them. The horned man waited for their reply. They had none. He pursed his lips.</p><p> </p><p>He hopped off his chair and walked over to the sink, where he rinsed out his bowl with only minor difficulty.</p><p> </p><p>“Noah, thank you for trying. I don’t give a shit anymore. If they want to apologize, then they can do so on their own time. I don’t care if you do,” Schlatt waved them off and went back to his room. Ted ran a hand down his face.</p><p> </p><p>“We fucked up…” he was the first to say. The others nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, we need to fix it,” Travis said. “Anyone got any ideas?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I heard from Wilbur earlier this week,” Noah started, “and he’s pretty worried, so I don’t think it’s just anger. Wilbur’s like, genuinely concerned that he’ll hurt himself or something.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really? Oh, fuck,” Ted muttered. He snapped. “Charlie, you can sorta change your shape when you go all slimy, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah… where are you going with this?” Charlie asked. </p><p> </p><p>“You could get into his room unnoticed and see where his mental state is when no one is looking. I know for a fact that as soon as his target audience isn’t looking, he drops the act pretty quick, since it tires him out a lot. There’s no reason to act in his room, so it’s perfect.”</p><p> </p><p>“I mean, I can try… shouldn’t we all apologize first?”</p><p> </p><p>“I feel like it’s too soon. He won’t believe us right now.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, yeah. Good point. I can try.” They all went to the hall outside their bedrooms, and Charlie shifted into his green, slimy form. He let himself slide into a ball of slime, and flatten out so that he could get under the door. He looked around, keeping a low profile as he peeked around the bed.</p><p> </p><p>Schlatt was laying on the floor, unmoving, staring at the ceiling. Charlie looked around the room and there were various holes and dents in the drywall. Schlatt sighed and got up, sitting down at his desk. Charlie noticed that there were several books stacked on Schlatt’s chair, and he had to climb up. The ram brought up discord on his computer, typed out something, though slower than Charlie remembers he could type, which either meant that he was just typing slow or he couldn’t type as fast as he used to be able to. He growled when he made another typo, and had to reach across the keyboard to delete something, and Charlie realized it was that he genuinely couldn’t type as fast as before.</p><p> </p><p>Charlie’s heart sank as realized just how much this was affecting Schlatt. Everything was different for him now, and instead of giving him an outlet from everything else going on, they had just been piling onto the hard time that he’d been having.</p><p> </p><p>Schlatt reached for a little pill bottle on his desk, putting a few of the mystery pills on his hand and swallowing them dry.</p><p> </p><p>“Headache begone,” Schlatt muttered before letting his head fall against his chair. Pain meds, apparently. He lifted his head back up when there was a message from discord. He responded, then called someone.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Schlatt,” Wilbur said.</p><p> </p><p>“If you’re gonna fucking laugh at me again, Wil, I can tell you right now, I am not in the mood,” Schlatt stated.</p><p> </p><p>“I won't. Anyway, have you at least tried talking to them?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, yeah, we had a lovely conversation earlier.”</p><p> </p><p>“Did you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure. Noah rounded everyone up, told them what they were gonna apologise for, and I told him to shut the fuck up and let them say sorry if they want to.”</p><p> </p><p>“Schlatt…”</p><p> </p><p>“I fucking mean it, Wilbur. I know you spoke to him, I heard you talking to him the other day. That’s one of two upsides to this fucking curse. I can hear really well. The other one is balance, but whatever. I don’t want them to apologise just because you called and said to. I don’t want them to apologise just because <em> one </em> of them finally opened their fucking eyes and then demanded the others apologise. If they say sorry and then continue doing it, then there's no point, Wilbur. Waste of goddamn breath.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, then they would at least be aware…” Wilbur tried to reason.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe. My point is-” Schlatt very suddenly sucked in a sharp breath, pressing a hand to his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Your head again?” Wilbur asked, tone soft.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s so fucking heavy all the time…”</p><p> </p><p>“Have you taken anything for it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I did a few minutes ago, but it hasn’t kicked in yet…” Schlatt had rested his head in his hands, and his ears twitched in pain.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll be fine.” Charlie felt like he was invading, more than he already was, so he slipped back out as quietly as he had slipped in. He snuck back down the hall and told the others what he saw.</p><p> </p><p>“So I think I speak for everyone when I say that we definitely need to stop,” Ted said. Everyone nodded seriously. They brought back out the stepstool, which they had hidden from Schlatt, and set it back out in the kitchen. They did a few other things, like moving around the cereal so that Schlatt could get to it easier.</p><p> </p><p>The next day, they went to get Schlatt out of his room again. He needed to come out anyway, they didn’t think he’d eaten anything, save for a few bites of cereal the day before, in the past three days. They sent Travis again, because it worked out last time. </p><p> </p><p>Travis knocked on Schlatt’s door.</p><p> </p><p>“Schlatt? Buddy, you need to eat something,” he called through the door. There was no answer. “Schlatt, c’mon, man. You need to eat something.” There was still no answer. It was eerily silent in the room. Travis got worried. “Charlie, come here, go unlock the door.” The pun master went all slimy, slunk under the door, unlocked it and opened it for him. Travis looked around, trying to see him. It was dark in his room, the lights off and the only light coming in was through thin, closed curtains on his window.</p><p> </p><p>Schlatt was nowhere in sight. Ted poked his head in, confused. Travis knew he was here, he could smell him, with his enhanced nose. He flicked on the light, surprised with how bright it was. He looked under the desk, then under the bed. In the corner, up against the wall, Schlatt’s eyes squinted back at him. Travis jumped a bit, then calmed down. Schlatt had curled himself up into a little ball.</p><p> </p><p>“Schlatt, what are you doing under there?” Travis asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Turn off the light,” was all the man said.</p><p> </p><p>“No, come out.”</p><p> </p><p>“Turn off the light, I know you guys are gonna forget it, and I can’t reach it. Turn off the light.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not until you come out.”</p><p> </p><p>“Travis, I have the <em> worst </em> headache right now, please turn off the light,” he asked this time, bringing an arm up to rub at his eyes. He sounded miserable. Travis sighed and motioned for them to turn off the light.</p><p> </p><p>“We need to talk to you. Can you come out?”</p><p> </p><p>“No.”</p><p> </p><p>“I will drag you. I swear.”</p><p> </p><p>“Jesus, let a man die in peace.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ted, you have longer arms,” Travis said. He got up and Ted took his place, reaching over to Schlatt, who let him have an arm. Ted pulled him out, and Schlatt made no effort to get up, opting to lie face-down on the floor.</p><p> </p><p>“You okay, Schlatt?” Ted asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Gotta migraine,” he replied simply. “Was trying to sleep it off.”</p><p> </p><p>“Aren’t beds better for sleeping those off?”</p><p> </p><p>“Rather bold, tallass, to assume I can climb up there with a headache of this caliber.” His voice was quiet, not at all the raging volume it had been the day before.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you want anything to eat?”</p><p> </p><p>“No.”</p><p> </p><p>“What have you eaten today? Or even in the last three days.”</p><p> </p><p>“Cereal.”</p><p> </p><p>“The cereal yesterday? The four bites of cereal?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, you’re eating something.” Ted pulled him to his feet. Schlatt grumbled and swayed where he stood for a second, before reluctantly following them into the kitchen. They sat him down at the table and put some food in front of him, which thankfully he ate without a fuss.</p><p> </p><p>“We need to apologise. All of us,” Cooper said. “I’m so sorry it took us so long to realize what this was doing to you. We didn’t mean for it to go this far. Sorry for pissing you off.”</p><p> </p><p>“And you are all, like, this is a general consensus?” Schlatt asked flatly. They all nodded in agreement.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. Sorry it took you straight up not wanting to talk to us for it to get through our thick skulls,” Ted chimed in.</p><p> </p><p>“Then I suppose I should clarify. It wasn’t just that I was angry, I guess. I can deal with anger. I dunno why, but I’ve just been… I’ve just been so fucking <em> sad </em> all the time, and I know I don’t have much of a reason to, but it piles up, you know?”</p><p> </p><p>“What about?”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t feel like you guys took me seriously anymore. I didn’t feel like ‘part of the group’ anymore, I legitimately wanted to move out. I tried to, even, but one look at me and the landlords would laugh, saying ‘nice try, kid, we cannot lease to a minor’. You know how frustrating it is, to be trapped somewhere where everyone around you is both the only people who know why you’re stuck like this and people who don’t take you seriously in the least? You guys treated me like a child half the time, and the other half I was just the butt of a joke! We never had real conversations anymore, and even if I tried, someone would just say something that would just completely take me out of the mood for conversation.” Schlatt paused to breathe for a minute while his words sank into his friends’ heads. Then he continued.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t do anything the way I used to anymore, and I thought that when all this first happened, I would at least still have my friends to talk to. I can’t type the way I used to, I have to fucking climb into my bed, quite literally, I can barely reach the fucking table and I need a goddamn stepstool to reach fucking anything in here! I thought I would at least still have the same old friendship with you guys. Then the jokes started up. Ha ha, funny at first, then it didn’t stop. I asked you guys to, and you didn’t. Nothing is normal anymore, and quite honestly, that’s all I even wanted. I just wanna be normal again. I wanna type fast again, I wanna be tall again, I want my fucking feet back, instead of these stupid fucking hooves, I want these heavy-ass horns gone, my head feels like it weighs half my body weight! I wanna be able to reach the bowls, and everything else without asking for help, but overall, that shit doesn’t really matter, because the one thing that I thought I still had was you guys! I just wanna be normal friends again. I wanna be able to talk to you guys like adults again, I don't want you guys to look down on me anymore. I know it sounds lame, but I actually miss you guys, and you’re all standing in front of me. How stupid is that?” His voice broke. Dammit. He’d been trying to keep it together, trying for so long, but he broke. Got it all out there. His eyes burned, and he blinked the burn away. “<em> Fuck. </em>” He forced out a chuckle, but it came out as more of a broken sob. There was a hand on his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay, Schlatt,” Travis said. He pulled the ram into a hug, and Schlatt hid his face from the others. His headache was worse.</p><p> </p><p>“We are so sorry that we pushed you to this point. We’ve been horrible friends for not seeing how much it was bothering you,” Noah said. Everyone else chimed in their agreements.</p><p> </p><p>“If it’s okay with you, we would like a chance to make it up to you. A chance to be better friends for you, so that you feel… less trapped. I can understand not being able to go anywhere, and that one will be entirely up to you, but will you give us a chance to be… not-shitty friends?” Ted asked. Schlatt was silent for a second.</p><p> </p><p>“I guess.”</p><p> </p><p>“You guess?”</p><p> </p><p>“I have a giant headache right now, Theodore, that’s the best you’re getting right now.”</p><p> </p><p>“I guess that’s fair. Would you like to watch mindless television to ease your suffering?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.” They all sat down on the couch, and Charlie put on some movie. </p><p> </p><p>They watched in silence, after some debate about seating. Schlatt somehow got wedged between the couch and Travis’ back, but the man was already like a giant teddy bear, so he was actually very comfortable. He couldn’t keep his eyes open.</p><p> </p><p>He eventually fell asleep there, letting his headache fall away in place of sleep.</p><p>
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</p><p>Travis noticed that Schlatt wasn’t actively attempting to escape, so he assumed he was comfortable. He barely noticed him, in fact. Schlatt used to sit on the couch like this a lot, and would end up squished quite frequently when he refused to move. This time, however, he was so small behind him that he was just easy to forget about.</p><p> </p><p>About forty-five minutes into the movie, Noah looked over and chuckled.</p><p> </p><p>“Dude, Schlatt is passed the fuck out behind you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh my god. He is,” Travis laughed silently. They let him be for the remainder of the movie, but when it ended, Travis got up and stretched. They all decided to move him to his room. Charlie picked him up and carried him to his room, minding his head, and laid him down on his bed. He drew up a blanket around him and left him to sleep.</p><p>
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</p><p>“Hey, Schlatt.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Wilbur.”</p><p> </p><p>“How are you? How’s the situation?”</p><p> </p><p>“A lot better. We can talk normally again, which is good. I suppose I partially have you to thank for that, eh?”</p><p> </p><p>“I won’t take the credit for that. They had to pull themselves together on their own.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a good thing they did. I think I was about a day away from just going insane.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really? From just them?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes and no. I didn’t tell you everything. Man’s gotta have a few secrets for himself, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well what, then?”</p><p> </p><p>“I mean, nothing is normal anymore, Wil. I can’t even type normally, I didn’t actually sleep in my bed for a good long time, since I couldn’t reach it, but I found this really comfortable spot on my floor, so I guess that was good. But I guess I was just going crazy, cause I had no one I could talk to, in person. No outlet. But things are a lot better. I can talk to them again, they returned my step-stool, so I’ll count this as a win.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m glad. It’s good to see you happier. We should do a toast. Here’s to doing better,” Wilbur said. Schlatt chuckled.</p><p> </p><p>“To doing better.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>you bet your ass I added 60 words to make it 6666</p></blockquote></div></div>
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